


Why the Champagne Blushes

by escavatedanastasia



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Human AU, M/M, Omorashi, One Shot, Piss kink, hint at feederism at the end, sorry mom and dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 10:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escavatedanastasia/pseuds/escavatedanastasia
Summary: Aster doesn’t need to worry about losing control of himself, at least when he’s drinking. He is Australian, after all. But whether it’s something in the drink or something in his new nanny, he’s about to discover new troubles and advantages he never knew he had.





	Why the Champagne Blushes

**Author's Note:**

> I guess y’all really liked Punch Drunk Piss so here’s a bunny-pees-himself-from-drinking in the human universe with a little bit of magic (or just some kgb level psychological manipulation from north’s end).

The housekeeper’s primary function to the Bunnymund family was to attend to the children, leaving their parents to attend to their social functions without needing to worry. Dusting and vacuuming and the like usually came separate, as there were usually so many children to watch that extra staff came in on the weekends to prepare the large Victorian-style home for any guests. The Bunnymunds came from old money, having invested funds centuries ago in the tulip mania upon hearing it mentioned, and still managed to keep the wealth rolling in well into the twenty-first century.  
Aster was the youngest of eight charming and successful children, and had just returned from his freshman run at a prestigious university across the pond only to be shoved into a philanthropic mixer by his well-intentioned parents. He’d only gotten a couple chances before to chat with the new housekeeper, who for once had no children to watch and could now put actual housekeeping as his top priority. Aster had a feeling this North knew more about him than he was supposed to, as if his parents filled him in on his bad habits and guilty pleasures. The Russian never talked down to him, but Aster made a point of not asking for anything more than a glass of champagne. The risk of a stiff and awkward conversation was unbearable to even think of.  
The old housekeeper was nice, Aster noted with a small smile. She’d been around since he was two years old and had only recently retired, locking his secrets and tears in her suitcase the day she left. She’d even helped commission the custom suit he was wearing, a light pink silk number with a white ruffled dress shirt.  
The amount of people asking him about college began to grow overwhelming. All the hair petting and occasional drawn-out cheek kissing could now be done less discreetly now that he was legally of age and considered on the market for desperate housewives. His small talk was muffled by his champagne flute, resorting to the drink to perhaps ward off a handful of overly curious family friends.  
“Have you got a girlfriend?”  
“How are your classes?”  
“Did you miss home?”  
“More champagne?” This would always earn a “yes, please.”  
“Are you following in your father’s footsteps?”  
“Still an art major, huh?”  
“Are the professors nice?”  
Aster could keep his voice at its highest sobriety even if he could feel himself growing more wasted by the second. Even through his blurry vision he could see the older Russian look worried as he looked over a broad shoulder at the young man. Aster nearly backed into a marble bust as the other sauntered over.  
“Kid like you likes putting them away, da?”  
Aster’s lips tightened as a slight blush rose on his sharp Persian cheekbones. His slender fingers, not pink but a deep tan, clutched the stem of his glass protectively.  
“Uh, da. I-I mean, mama and daddy lemme have some if it’s for social things here, so...”  
He squeaked involuntarily as a large hand met his shoulder. He felt his breath hitch as it squeezed ever so gently.  
“Cut down. Unless you would like a longer and more uncomfortable chat about bad habits. Your mother said to keep an eye on you and to lock up the drinks if you get too excited.”  
“I’m not a baby,” Aster countered with a baffled, defensive scoff. “I was already close to finishing anyway. Honestly if she’s worried I’ll get alcohol dependency, that’s on her.”  
“I take the hint,” North raised his palms with an amused half-smile as he backed off. Aster shook his head. That man had no idea how many he could put away at school without ever needing so much as a glass of water to stay afloat. He never bore the misfortune of blacking out or passing out, much to the dismay of the other students with permanent markers in their possession. His high alcohol tolerance was a badge of honor and what he really should’ve been bragging about to the older socialites.  
Aster scowled as he felt some of his champagne drip onto his dry-cleaned trousers, mentally chastising himself and hoping it didn’t look as obvious as it felt. He sighed and turned towards the bathroom, only to find it locked with a number of people waiting outside. Great, now he had to go to one of the loos upstairs to tame the stain. He set his latest empty glass down with a sigh as he started towards the spiral staircase, only to feel a tickle at his leg. The wet spot was getting bigger, but he wasn’t spilling anything on it...  
Aster felt like his body was on fire as his hands shook. It was all over his crotch, down the legs, starting to drip on the freshly shampooed floor. His knuckle went straight for his teeth as he bit it for security, desperately glancing around as his vision felt even more muddled. By now everything was just colorful blobs as he clumsily met a carpeted step to sit on. Tears sprung into his eyes. Neither of his parents could see him like this. They wouldn’t shout, but he knew they’d go overboard with trying to fix the situation, probably by giving him a bubble bath and putting him in some stupid pajamas he’d left behind on purpose, and the next morning he’d have to go with his mother to pick out some fancy roundabout version of training pants. He was already the baby of the family—how was it gonna look when it got around that he couldn’t even drink socially without pissing himself?  
He whimpered as he felt a finger tilt his trembling chin up.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I...” He opened his legs a tiny bit to show him before closing them just as quickly. He received a clueless expression in response. Fuck, North was really gonna make him say it out loud.  
“I had an accident. There, happy?”  
“Why?”  
“Cause I drank too much...or too fast, hard to say.”  
“Good boy. Up.”  
Aster could only manage a “what?” as he was lifted up into a fireman’s carry, stammering until he was turned so that his ass wasn’t facing the party as he was walked up the stairs.  
“So I’m a good boy for wetting my pants?” He asked with a half-scowl. “I knew you were some kinda perverted freak.”  
“No, for learning consequences of your actions,” North replied, unflinching at the accusation. “Now shoo and clean up. I’ll get change of clothes ready.”  
Aster scurried into his bathroom as if he were being chased, staring himself down in the mirror as soon as the door shut with a click.  
His face looked so guilty, and his pants were soaked down both legs as if he’d been holding it in for hours. His knuckle hadn’t left his mouth and his long, curly hair had fallen in front of his eyes in defeat. He couldn’t believe this was all real. He found himself repeating what had happened in his head, then rehearsing what he was gonna say if his parents asked him why he was carried upstairs.  
“I had an accident. I wet myself. I made a puddle on the floor. Sorry, mama. It won’t happen again—well, I mean it might...yeah, I figured I should just stay in my room during parties from now on. Please don’t put me in the sheep pajamas.”  
A firm knock at the door sent him into a shrieking fit of surprise.  
“If you need help,” North told him, obviously holding back either amusement or questions, “let me know, but I thought you could take off your own clothes.”  
“I am, m’just...processing. Shut up.”  
Aster cleaned himself off with a wet washcloth before sending the dirty clothes down the laundry chute and wrapping himself in an emerald plush robe. He felt nauseous having to face his new nanny again, staring at the clothes laid out for him on the bed.  
“Pajamas. I avoided any with sheep,” North teased.  
Aster mumbled a halfhearted thanks, picking up the dainty linen shorts and matching embroidered top with a rather fond sparkle in his eye. These made him feel his prettiest, but at college he found it best to sleep in the next day’s clothes.  
“Could you dress me, North?” he asked, seconds before the cozy robe fell off his shoulders and to the floor. His arms, legs and back were adorned with tattoos, previously strategically hidden whenever he visited home. The only thing covering him now was a clean pair of lacy pink panties. Aster didn’t blush at this, but wore it all with pride, enjoying the feeling of being like a delicate doll on display, even if it was just for some old nanny.  
“Wanna touch?” he heard himself croon. “Make sure I didn’t miss a spot?”  
“Hmm...”  
Aster turned to find his perky ass was being looked over, considered.  
“Better not to catch cold,” North decided, breaking away from the distraction and getting Aster dressed with little else standing between.  
“I like it when Mama or Daddy brushes my hair before bed,” he mused as he pulled an intricately carved hairbrush from his bedside drawer.  
“Or Nanny?” North proposed.  
A small smile escaped Aster as he was sat on the bed, on North’s lap as the brush began to run through his curls.  
“Any other night routines I should be knowing about?”  
“Calling me good...pretty. Maybe a kiss or two.” His grin stayed as a blush rose again. That wasn’t a part of his usual bedtime routine, but Nanny didn’t need to know that.  
“Such a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be down there getting so drunk,” the other advised, prompting an internal groan from Aster. “But since you’re being such a good boy and sitting still, maybe next time I will clean you myself. Then you’ll get that special attention.”  
Aster felt a possessive pat on his lace-clad crotch, and he subsequently begged himself not to tent in his very short shorts. But something about that last part didn’t sound right.  
“Next time?”  
“You still have plenty of lessons to learn,” North quipped happily as he adjusted a blue silk bow on the younger’s scalp, kissing his head. “This time we have just become better acquainted.”  
Aster wrinkled his nose as North got up, his large hand sweetly but firmly pressing onto the younger’s chest until he sank back into his pillows. His body from the neck down was soon greeted by a few layers of soft comforters.  
“Try not to drink water in middle of the night,” North advised. “Those sheets are not so easy to clean.”  
Aster avoided any eye contact as his hair was softly stroked, then kissed again. If only he possessed whatever convenient magic this man seemed to, to beat him at his own game, but with his own twist. The nanny had a bit of a belly on him—maybe he could coax it out more by having him sample his award-winning chocolates so that he’d eventually get to cuddle up to him, just like he did as a child with his former nanny. He supposed that for now this was something he could only dream about, and with that he closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> lmk if y’all would like a light sequel (or in-universe) fic of bun being partially responsible for north’s famous belly by sitting on his chest and feeding him Oh So Many Helpings of gourmet chocolate in its many forms bc I’ve been looking at some depraved ass shit and this is my outlet


End file.
